~Before~

Depression

That night, she’d lost it completely. 

Jan’s words filled her mind, Jim’s face was all she could see. 

That is, until she pushed the door open and saw someone else entirely.

Roy.

The thoughts were back before she could quiet them.

We’re getting married.  I can’t do this. 

Pam didn’t give herself time to second guess.  She walked straight to the couch and pulled him to her. 

And true to form Roy tried to push her away.  

He glared at her, incredibly annoyed.  She did shit like this all the time. 

He was busy watching the ballgame.  Couldn’t she see that? 

Even as he’d barked at her, his words simply did not register. 

She was more than desperate, incredibly insistent as her arms closed tightly around him and she crushed her mouth to his.  A sob escaped her lips before she could control it.

And it was then that he finally realized there was something wrong. 

As quickly as she’d grabbed him she’d pushed him away.  He heard her whisper, “I’m so sorry.” and something that sounded faintly like “No.” 

And then she was stumbling blindly towards the bathroom, locking the door behind her. 

As he watched her go, his mind wasn’t on the game at all anymore.  He could still hear her crying behind the door and he knocked softly, imploring her to talk to him. 

The repetitive sound of “No…no…no…” was the only answer he received. 

Then, suddenly, she was silent.  He called to her again and was met with nothing but the sound of her breath hitching. 

“Pammy?”  He whispered.  “Babe, come on out.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

She didn’t reply and as the minutes turned to hours his worry grew. 

In the end, at a total loss he’d called her mother, because the only other alternative was to call 911.  He couldn’t imagine how that would go. 

“Hey.  Yeah.  My girlfriend is hysterical and won’t come out of the bathroom…”

Pam still hadn’t surfaced in the hours it had taken for her mother to arrive. 

Roy greeted her at the door and didn’t quite understand why her expression was not all that surprised when he relayed the story.

She'd hugged him before she moved to the bathroom, her knock apparently holding some secret meaning since for the first time since Pam had gone in there it opened. 

Just slightly, just…enough to allow her to slip through.

Soon Roy was the only one on the other side of the door.  Alone, and more than a little confused, again.

It seemed there was nothing for him to do but go to bed and let her handle it.

Wedding jitters.  Cold feet.  That’s all it was.

When he woke the next morning he got the whole story. 

And he couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out before.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Jim really was trying to forget her.

Well, maybe not forget her, but try and move on if he could.

On a usual day, he thought he might be getting better at it.  Instead of thinking of her every second, sometimes it would be every minute.  He hoped soon it might be every hour, then maybe he could cut it down to once a day.

Maybe someday it would be once a month…then maybe he’d just think of her fondly once a year.  Like on…Arbor Day.  

Whenever that was. 

He kept trying to forget her, but it really wasn’t working.

Thing was, there were no less than 52 emails in his Draft folder. 

Each one was - of course - addressed to her.   Each one told her the mundane details of his day. How much paper he’d sold…how much better the vending machines were here than in Scranton…how much he actually missed Dwight of all people.

Each one was full of things only she would understand.  Random musings and observations about how watching reality TV could actually make you a better person.  It could tell you who not to be in any given situation. 

He’d come to observe that this was especially true regarding Fear Factor, because really, $50,000 is pocket change if someone expects you to eat rat guts.

He smiled, imagining her face, her nose scrunched up in disgust.

There’s no one else.  He realized as he printed out every last one of the emails.  He took the pile and moved to the shredder.  There’s no one else that would understand.

No one in this world.

He paused just short of running them through one by one.   He realized it was futile and his hand fell to his side.  

He’s not nearly strong enough yet to shred every trace of her from his life.

Maybe he will be tomorrow.

How do you even begin?  He wondered as he walked back to his desk, still clutching the emails in his hand. 

How do you even start to try and let go of the only thing that matters? 

xoxoxoxoxoxo

There really should be a limit as to how much one human being could cry Pam thought as she drove along 95. 

She could barely see through her tears.

She shifted in the seat and smiled a bit in spite of it all, remembering getting ready to leave. 

Her father made her take his car.  

"More reliable," He'd said, dealing with all this drama the only way he knew how.

As they stood in the driveway she could see that her mother wanted to take the trip with her but they both knew that this was something Pam needed to do on her own.

That fateful night when she’d finally broken down her mother had helped her to place the final piece in the puzzle.  She joined her on the cold tile floor in that cramped little space and held her close, just like she had when she was little.  Except then her biggest problem was the fact that Susie Miller wouldn’t share her dolls with her.  

This was so much different.

But just as it had in the days of Susie Miller the advice came.  Her mother, sage as ever, simply told her that something like this was rare and precious, and yes, incredibly scary. She’d said that she didn’t raise her daughter to throw opportunities like this away.   She’d watched her do too much of that in the last ten years.   She asked her to close her eyes and picture the rest of her life. 

Who did she want to be next to?

And Pam’s lids had barely closed before she had her answer. 

Her fears subsided instantly and she couldn’t believe that it was really that simple. 

And although there was no question of what she needed to do Pam didn’t completely change overnight.  It wasn’t as if she’d gained ten years worth of courage in an instant. 

Instead she'd spent a completely clichéd week in bed at her parents’ house, Kleenex crumpled about her, days spent watching nothing but an endless slew of Lifetime movies.   Around the third time in as many days that Kellie Martin was abducted or addicted or accused of murder she rolled her eyes and found herself reaching for the phone.

And it was only after she’d dialed that she’d realized who she was calling.

She had thrown the phone down, knowing it wouldn’t be that simple.   

In that moment she was acutely aware that whenever anything good – or ridiculous or really bad happened he was the one person she wanted – no – needed to talk to. 

She’d scoffed at this kind of thing in the romance novels she’d read but there was no other way to describe it.  It was like a cloud had lifted and she could suddenly see everything clearly.

The scenery flew by, the wheels whirred on the highway, the sound they made like music for the lyrics to the only song she could hear anymore.

Please be home.  Please be home.  Please be home.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

He sat alone in his car, trying to decide.

What would it be tonight?   Pizza or Chinese?

He watched his co-workers laughing and waving as they made their way out of the parking lot.  Like every Thursday, they were all going out for drinks.  Normally he’d be anxious to join them, there was no better way to get to know people but tonight his heart wasn’t in it.

Not to mention he wasn’t quite sure in his current mood that he’d be able to control himself.  There was nothing worse than drinking yourself into a stupor in front of your boss.

He wound up cruising the first drive-thru he came to, mechanically ordering a number 3 because ordering a 1 seemed much too lonely and a 2 seemed too much like a lie.

He smiled as he paid for his order but it left his face as quickly as it appeared. 

Is this really what his life had become?   He thought as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.  He realized all at once that he had to do something drastic. 

He could already see it.  He was a promotion away from a fate worse than death.

If he wasn’t careful he could actually become a carbon copy of Michael.

And that?  Well it was far more depressing than attempting to live a life without her.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

She regarded the paper she had clutched in her hand, making sure for the thousandth time she had the right apartment number.

As if the little label reading Halpert wasn’t confirmation enough.

She took a steadying breath, going over it again and again in her mind.   When the door opened she would just say it quickly.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.

I love you too.

And then she’d wait and hope that she hadn’t said too little, too late.

A sense of calm washed over her, realizing that no matter what happened she needed to do this in order to move on, one way or the other.

She took a deep breath and knocked, her knuckles rapping sharply against heavy oak, hoping it was loud enough to reach him.

Please be home please be home please be home.

She waited, knocked again, and the response was the same.  

She was met only with silence.

Her hand dropped to her side followed quickly by her heart, which sank straight to her stomach.

Though her first instinct was to run she summoned every ounce of her courage, turning her back to the door and sliding down to rest against it.

She gazed at her hands, stripped bare of every trace of her life before and sat there patiently.

She knew she’d made him wait for her forever.

The least she could do was return the favor.